Darkness Falls!
by Tribute1
Summary: The avariel fight for survival as the forces of Aryvandaar close in around them.   A young avariel prince leads the remanant of his people to find a safe haven, pursued by the forces of the power mad, Giilvas Vyshaan, the  Coronal of Aryvandaar.
1. Chapter 1

This story I have thought about writing for awhile. I have always loved the avariel and feel there isn't enough written about them. So I took it upon myself to write a story. It's set during the last Crown War, just before the Elven Court destroyed House Vyshaan, the rules of Aryvandaar. Hope you enjoy it! Please read and review. I don't mind flamers! If you think my story sucks, that's fine just tell me why and how you would make it better. It's the only way to grow as a writer. I feel too many people just read stories on fan fic an don't review for whatever reason. I mean a get alot of hits on my stories but only two or three reviews. So, please please if you read this story, review it. You won't hurt my feelings if you don't like it.

* * *

Explosions filled the air overhead as the avariel mages rushed into the throne room. A beautiful female leapt from the throne and soared several feet landing in front of the gathered mages. The several of the mages inhaled sharply at this break in protocol. No ruler of any realm, elven or otherwise would stand, let alone leap in the presence of their subjects.

The female could sense their thoughts, "Traditions be damned. We are under attack. What news?"

"Your Majesty, the gold elves of Aryvandaar have overcome our outer defenses. They will be within the city in moments", Bryndael Starcloud said, bowing his head slightly. Bryndael was the Grand Mage of Evaedir.

"Those cursed battle platforms are simply too strong for us. And their forces outnumber ours ten to one. I would order a retreat but our young and elderly would be at the mercy of their griffon riders", Verec Ironwing, the Blade Major of their forces chimed in.

Amidaelis Starsky, the Coronal of Evaedir gazed out the glass-steel window. She could see the invading army of Aryvandaar closing around the city. Their battle platforms were one of the most impressive feats of strength and magic known in all Faerun. She could see the griffon riders swoop in attacking the avariel defenders. The riders attacked with spell, while their griffon mounts moved in to shred the wings of the distracted avariel. The sight of her fellow avariel falling from the sky weighed heavily upon her heart. She could see the griffons outflanking the avariel trying to cut off any escape route.

"Your Majesty, we must make haste. We cannot hope to hold out much longer", Raziel Moonshade stated breathlessly. The High Priestess of Aerdrie Faenya was the oldest of all the avariel of this mountain city. Her patience and compassion were legendary.

"Our people have survived endless dragons attacks over the centuries. We are finally rebuilding and now to fall at the hands of our land-bound kin... Blessed Aerdrie, why?", Amidaelis dropped her head. The despair over the destruction of her beloved city almost too much to bear.

"Giilvas Vyshaan seeks power. Power over all the High Mages of Faerun", Bryndael said, his snowy white wings rustled slightly as he stepped forward. The old mage reached inside his robe and withdrew a brilliant sky blue gem. "He seeks the selu'kiira of the sky."

"For what purpose?" Verec asked staring at the gem.

"As I said power. In the days when Faerun was young, elves were just beginning to unlock the secrets of High Magic. Four Mages who represented each of the basic elements fire, water, earth and air, placed their knowledge in a high lore gem, the selu'kiira, so their understanding and secrets would be handed down through the generations that followed. One of their apprentices wanted to master all four gems. After a lengthy destructive battle, the High Mages of old decided the gems were too powerful to be kept together. A keeper of each gem was selected. Each mage was to hold their gem in secret away from all others, so no elf would ever be tempted to command such power. The power-mad Giilvas seeks to command all four gems and use that power to bind all other high mages. If he succeeds, the destruction unleashed by House Vyshaan would be unspeakable", Bryndael let his word sink in around all those gathered. "I am the keeper of the selu'kiira of the sky."

"Is possible that he has gathered the other gems?", Amidaelis asked fearing the answer.

"What is possible or impossible, I cannot say. I have tried to contact the other keepers to no avail. Which can only mean they are dead," Bryndael said, tucking the gem back within his robe.

"How do we stop him?" Verec asked.

Raziel the aged priestess stepped forward, adjusting her wings, "The Seldarine have summoned their chosen to the Elven Court. The fate of House Vyshaan will be decided there. I fear their aid will come too late to save Evaedir, Your Majesty."

Amidaelis sighed deeply and stretched her wings, "If Evaedir is to be destroyed then we will exact a high price from our would be conquerors!" She stood tall and regal, the Coronal of Evaedir. "Verec, prepare a guard for our young and elderly! An orderly retreat from the city must begin at once", she commanded.

"Yes, My queen", he said bowing and then leaping into to air and winging out of the tower.

"Raziel, gather the clergy of Aerdrie Faenya, our Blessed Mother. I want them to organize the retreat. You as our spiritual leader must be among those that flee," Amidaels said, raising her and dimissing the ancient avariel before she could protest. "You must live! As the Chosen of Aerdrie, our people will need your guidance, now more than ever."

Raziel bowed and slowly took flight. Her silver wings though ancient, were still strong. The Coronal turned to the mages of Evaedir, "You know what I must ask of you, I...," her voiced faltered, she was unable to continue.

"You need not ask, milady. We serve the people of Evaedir, in life and in death if necessary," Bryndael said, bowing his head. Amidaelis' eyes welled with tears. Any monarch would be fortunate to have such bravery among their subjects. These mages offered their lives selflessly.

"Where is my son? Where is Jondaroth?", she asked. Drogan, her chief court advisor stepped forward. Drogan Shadowbreeze was a middle-aged elf, who had served her since her father's death a few centuries past. His deep black wings, a rare occurance among the elves of Evaedir, stood out among the gathered court attendants.

"He is with the armathora, milady," Drogan stated. "He is leading the defense of the eastern tower."

"Summon him at once," she commanded with grim determination. Jondaroth would lead the retreat of their people. He will soon be the next Coronal of Evaedir. A ruler without a throne. Drogan bowed, then turned and jumped into the air. Amidaelis watched him leave. Jondaroth would put up a fight. She knew he would stay and fight until his last breath, but that was her duty not his. Amidaelis turned to face her mages again.

"Let us prepare. If Evaedir is to fall, it will not fall silently nor without a steep price in Aryvandaar blood!"

To be continued! R & R!

To be continued!


	2. Chapter 2

Amidaelis sat patiently on her throne. The throne was a beautiful sky blue color. The color of a bright clear day. A young avariel swooped into the throne room. He was a handsome male. His clothing matched the Coronal's, the royal colors of House StarSky, black, sky blue and silver. He landed gracefully and bowed deeply, his large silver gray wings tucked in.

"Your Majesty," he said. His usually neatly kept dark hair was in disarray. His sky blue eyes which usually sparkled with some mischief or merriment, now held only rage. He had several small cuts on his arms and was bleeding slightly.

Her son, Prince Jondaroth was no idle prince. If his people were to fight, he would fight along side them. Much like his father, she thought.

"Rise, my son," she commanded as she stood to embrace him. Jondarath stepped closer and returned her embrace.

"Mother, what could be so important? The battle to hold the wall is most urgent. Every able-bodied avariel is needed to turn the elves of Aryvandaar back," he said, trying hard to contain the anger he felt toward his land-bound kin. The atrocities committed by House Vyshaan were widely known.

"I have another mission for you my son," she returned to her throne, placing both hands on the armrest. She steeled herself to her son's reaction. "Evaedir will be abandoned, you will lead a group of refugees to a safe haven."

Her son's emotions were shown on his face, first shock and horror and then anger. "Have you lost all senses, mother? This is our home. We will fight to the last drop of blood. I will..."

"Enough," she commanded. "I am Coronal here, not you. You will obey me!"

He straightened, "So that's it, just give our city to those accursed sun elves? Not even try to fight! Mother, our high mages. Surely they can turn the tide," he said, pleading with her.

She closed her eyes, "No my son! They will not! You will go to temple of Aerdrie Faenya. Raziel is waiting," she finished.

"But mother, we have..."

"You have your orders or shall the heir of House StarSky's defy his Coronal and mother," she said. It took every ounce of control she possessed not to run to her son and accompany him to the wall and battle with their fellow avariel until either they died or House Vyshaan turned away. But she was a ruler. Her first duty was to protect her people. And this war they simply could not win.

Jondaroth saluted his mother. "Very well, Your Majesty," he said sharply. "When shall I tell Her Excellency, the High Priestess to expect your arrival?" He bowed his head as he spoke refusing to look at his mother.

She shook her head. Jondaroth did not understand what she was saying. "I am not going to the temple, my son."

Jondaroth's head snapped up. "What do you mean? The People need you to lead them."

"I have made my decision! I will not suffer your arguments. Our duty is to our people, Go," she ordered, her emotions were on the surface. She did not want to break down in front of him, not now.

"Mother," he said softly taking a step forward. The realization of his mother's words finally fell upon him. She raised her hand stopping him.

"Go! There isn't much time left. I have to gather the forces that will protect the flight from Evaedir," she whispered. Jondaroth bowed his head slightly and took flight out of the Tower.

Once her son was out of the audience chamber, the Coronal wept!

* * *

Hathorian Korianthil surveyed the scene from atop one of the battle platforms that hovered in the air. The walls of Evaedir were beginning to break. The walls were the brown in color, magically grown from the earth, forty feet high and several feet deep. There were deep cracks that were widing with each assault. Evaedir would soon fall.

Evaedir sat in the middle of a volcanic crater, protected on all sides by the surrounding mountains. There was a crystal clear lake in the middle which spilled down one side in a breathtakingly beautiful waterfall. The evergreen forest surrounding the city was dense and verdant green. The city was itself was built around the lake. Massive shadowtops and blueleafs were the homes of the avariel. Towers of the purest crystal were dotted among the forest. One could fly over and never see it. Such was the way of elves. The crumbling wall protected much of the forested valley. The woods grew sparse as the neared the top of the crater.

The forces of Aryvandaar, after a hard fought battle, managed to capture a guard tower along the outer wall of the crater. Here many of their forces were be landed to begin their final assault on the city. This tower gave them a foothold on the crater. They could launch their attacks from the ground and further weaken the defenders of Evaedir.

Something inside Hathorian knew this war wasn't right. Giilvas Vyshaan, his lord and master was mad with power. His plan to destroy the High Mages of the Realms was true madness. Such destruction. House Vyshaan was powerful. The family held sway in Aryvandaar for many centuries. The power at their disposal was something to be feared. And they did not share their secrets with outsiders. Hathorian only knew there was some object of power the Coronal of Aryvandaar sought in the peaceful ciity of the avariel.

Their attack began in secret. Conquering Illefarn was only a cover. Evaedir was the true prize, Illefarn was the staging ground. There was more fight in these avariel than Hathorian originally thought. To look at them, one would never call them fierce. But their warriors fought as bravely as any Hathorian ever faced. The forces at his command had yet to complete cut off the city. There could be no escape routes.

"It is time. Prepare the final assault," a voice behind Hathorian spoke. Hathorian clinched his jaw. He hated the elf behind him. Gilvathas Vyshaan, youngest son of the Coronal. An upstart arrogant young bladesinger. Hathorian detested taking orders from the Vyshaan prince.

"But Your Highness, we have yet to completely surround the city. There are still possible escape routes. With more time and patience, we will ..."

"We will attack them now! I command here, not you Hathorian," the sun elf lord barked proudly, his handsome gold elf features betrayed the cruelty and darkness in his heart. The young prince was dressed in elven chain armor, the colors of House Vyshaan, purple, black and red complimented his uniform.

This is foolish, Hathorian thought to himself. He dare not speak the words aloud. Gilvathas had never led troops in battle. Hathorian fought in hundres of campaigns against other elves as well as orcs, ogres and a host of traditional elven enemies. Grudgingly, he turned and issued orders. Within moments, the griffon riders took flight. Fifty in number, all accomplished mages would lead the attack. The ground forces begin their march down into the valley.

This is utter madness! Hathorian silently said to himself.


	3. Chapter 3

Gilvathas Vyshaan looked over the forested valley that would soon be added to list of Aryvandaar's conquests. He feared their forthcoming victory would be short-lived. The Elven Court had been convened and if their spies were correct, House Vyshaan's future was being discussed. His father, Giilvas, the Coronal of Aryvandaar's reach was vast. There were Vyshaan agents in the courts of every elven kingdom across Faerun.

The lesser races of elves refused to accept the superiorty of the golds. Aryvandaar's conquest and sometimes destruction of their enemies only cemeted House Vyshaan's view. The gold elf high mages were unmatched in skill and power, no elf could dispute that fact. And yet, the Elven Court was currently unifying elf kingdoms against them. His father's plan had to work. Though the gold elves of Aryvandaar were clearly the epitome of elven civilization, even they could not hope to stand against such hosts.

The selu'kiira had to be found. With it, High Magic would only be cast in Aryvandaar by gold elves. "Just as it should be," he said.

"Milord?," the question came from Hathorian Korianthil. Gilvathas had not realized he spoke aloud.

"Nothing, Arkerym Korianthil," Gilvathas addressed him by his military title. Soothe his bruised ego. Hathorian chaffed under his command. He could sense it. Once this campaign was over, Gilvathas would kill the arkerym. This was his own idea. By removing a rival, he would prove himself to his father. Gilvathas was a bladesinger. And a deadly one at that. He honed his skill over the two centuries of his life. Hathorian Korianthil was a formidable warrior and an proven mage tested in battle but Gilvathas was a Vyshaan. And were they not masters of the world.

"Continue forward," Gilvathas commanded as he seated himself on a raised dais atop the battle platform. Soon, so very soon, this would be over and he would be the hero of the day. Let his older brothers top that. His father would surely name him, Coronal's heir.

* * *

Amidaelis gazed upon the warriors gathered in the courtyard just outside StarSky Tower, the stunning black marble tower of Evaedir. There were several balconies and open verandas. Windows were in abundance. The surface of the tower appeared to be a starlit night sky. The warriors all stood at attention. Dressed in black, dark grey and the occasional flash of white, just like a thunderstorm about to unleash its fury.

On the other side of the courtyard, those that would flee the city gathered. Her son, Jondaroth was among them. She had yet to say goodbye to him. It was a luxury she could not afford. Serving the People always came first, it was a lesson she hoped Jondaroth learned quickly. Verec Ironwing, Blade Major of Evaedir, had chosen a select group of warriors and warrior-mages to guard the avariel who would soon flee their doomed city.

Her throat was tight, words would not come now. She could not speak for fear of breaking down. There was no need for words on this day. Bryndael Starcloud, the Grand Mage of Evaedir stepped forward and handed Jondaroth a small box. It contained the selu'kiira of the sky, one of the four elemental lore gems House Vyshaan so desperately coveted.

"Milord, it is most important that you not open this box on your journey. This box is only to be opened by a High Mage," the old mage stated as he handed the box to the young prince. The spells Bryndael had placed upon the box would prevent Giilvas Vyshaan for scrying its location until it could be protected by another High Mage. Jondaroth was a formidable young warrior-mage but he was no match for the powers House Vyshaan commanded.

Jondaroth looked at the box and unceremoniously placed it in his pack. He was still not happy with the turn of events. He should be here with the last defenders but he like all others would obey the Coronal's wishes. "I still haven't been told where I'm leading our people," he said impatiently. He wanted this over. Abandoning the city would be the hardest thing he had ever done.

Amidaelis found her voice. "You will journey to Shantel Othreier. There you will find a safe haven for a time. I have made arraingements with the Speaker of House Durothil, who currently rules the city."

"Shantel Othreier? Wasn't that city destroyed by House Vyshaan ages ago?" Jondaroth asked.

"A remnant remains. It is being rebuilt. It has become a city of refuge. Many elves have been made homeless by the actions of Aryvandaar," Bryndael stated. "It lies many leagues south. Your journey will take several days."

Amidaelis went to her son. There was so much she wished to tell him. How proud she was of him, what a fine ruler he would make, but there wasn't enough time. The forces of Aryvandaar were closing on the city for their final assault. She pulled a glass-steel sword from a scabbard. "The Sword of the Star Sky," she said. "Your great grandfather made this sword to defend our people."

The clear smooth sword was magnificient. It look as if a thousand stars burned within the blade. Their were several glyphs and symbols down the surface of the blade. Amidaelis extended the sword to her son, pommel set before him. Jondaroth reached out and grabbed the sword. The glow from the sword slowly enveloped him.

"It is done! Lead our people well, Coronal Jondaroth of House StarSky," Amidaelis stated and fell on one knee before her son. All the gathered elves followed suit. Jondaroth bowed his head slightly and helped his mother rise. He could not remain angry at her. The sacrifice she was about to make was selfless and noble.

She kissed her son on the cheek, her way of saying goodbye. She would allow herself no other. She turned quickly to Blade Major Verec Ironwing and motioned for him to speak.

The military leader of Evaedir stepped forward, "There is a secret passage under the Temple. A hidden cave that will lead you down the mountain and to the forest below. Warriors of Evaedir, by your life or your death, you will protect these people on this journey," he stated simply. Verec was an elf of action not talk. His words were few.

There were several murmurs from the crowd. They would have to travel underground, something that was nearly impossible for any avariel. To be away from the open sky was a punishment worse than death.

Amidaelis was about to speak when her son spoke first, "My people, this journey will be hard. We must all bear things that go against our very nature. The sacrifice of my mother and those that remain will not be in vain. Summon your courage. We will make our ancestors proud!," Jondaroth exclaimed. Many in the crowd visibly calmed down as the young prince spoke and followed the warriors who would lead the way down.

Jondaroth and Amidaelis held their gaze on each other for a time. It was the new Coronal who broke the silence as the avariel made their way to the secret exit.

"I will sing songs of this day to my children. I will tell them how courageous their grandmother was," he said as his eyes welled with tears. Amidaelis bowed again to her son as he turned and followed the crowd.

The High Mages of Evaedir closed around Amidaelis. They were five in number.

"It is time, milady," Bryndael said. "We must form our circle. The forces of Aryvandaar are nearly upon us."

Amidaelis rose and took flight toward the outer wall. Verec Ironwing and his warriors followed. The High Mages were the last to take flight.

She landed with practiced ease on the wall. She could sense the magic of the enemy seeking to bind them. She easily fought it off. A skilled mage in her own right. She was only just beginning to learn the ways of High Magic but she would lend what magic she could to their defensive effort. She could hear the screech of the griffons that lay just ahead, not yet in sight.

She turned to face the warriors of Evaedir, fulling extending her silver colored wings, "Today our beloved city will fall, but it will not go quietly. Today, our enemies seek to overpower us but we will not go without a fight. For our people, we make this sacrifice. This day will be our last on Faerun, so our children will have tomorrow. Warriors of Evaedir, to me!," she exclaimed as she took flight over the wall followed by over five hundred winged elves all shouting and singing the songs of praise that would guide their spirits to Corellon Larethian's side. There in the afterlife, they would serve in his celestial army as Reverend Ones!

The elves of Evaedir winged toward their deaths with a song in the heart. The battle was about to begin...


	4. Chapter 4

The avariel sped into battle. They descended upon the invading griffon riders savagely. Hathorian watched the battle from an Aryvandaaran battle platform. The avariel were a sight to behold. The griffons were swift but the avariel were swifter. He thought the griffons were brutal when unleashed upon opponents, these avariel won the battle in that category as well.

The mages riding atop the griffons were outmatched today. The avariel unleashed air elementals that ripped the mages to shreds. Birds of every species, size, and color filled the air, summoned by the avariel. From small sparrows numbering in the hundreds to giant eagles which numbered less than ten, all aided the avariel. The Aryvandaar mages could not cast their spells, the birds swooped and pecked at them disrupting their casting. Over half the griffon riders fell in the first wave of battle. The giant eagles descended upon the riderless griffons. Spells of confusion casts on the griffons caused them to attack each other and sometimes other griffon riders.

The avariel were true masters of the sky. They dove and manuevered with ease. They were wondrous creatures, Hathorian admired them from afar. Several of the winged elves descended on a battle platform. Each platform carried a score of archers and an equal number of mages. The archers aimed for the avariel wings with little avail. The avariel covered themselves with their wings, cocoon like and the arrows bounced off. A stoneskin spell, placed uon their wings. The Aryvandaar mages on the platforms had a little more luck. They unleashed spells that found their targets and many avariel fell. Fire had little effect on them, their enemies had longed used that tactic and the avariel were well guarded against it either by spell or some other magical item.

The Aryvandaar mages had others forms of attack. Some magically crushed or broke the wings of the avariel. Other mages worked in tandem, one would telekinetically grip a winged elf victim and the other would magically pull the wings right off their target's back.

Hathorian was mesmerized by the battle taking place on the platform to his right. Three were sent into to battle and he commanded the central one. Ten avariel had desended on the platform. Using their magic and their magnificent glass-steel swords, the avariel had almost cleared the platform. The avariel were much like their glass-steel weapons. They looked beautiful, like they would break at the slightest touch. Both were much stronger than they appeared.

"Lord Korianthil, were you just planning to watch the battle?" Gilvathas Vysaan said with contempt as he too watched the platform being overcome.

I thought you were in command, Hathorian wanted to retort. Instead he ordered the mages and archers on his platform to fire. The avariel were prepared for the attack. The arrows bounced harmless off an invisible wall. And before he could speak a hosts of avians descended upon them. Hathorian swatted at cardinals, blue jays and blackbirds. These normally peaceful birds attacked with a viciousness that startled him. He bled from several cuts. Gilvathas raised a wand only drop it. The birds swarmed him instantly. A light wind blew and then gradually grew stronger until the birds were forced to retreat. Hathorian looked to his left and a mage saluted him.

The platform to his right was slowly falling from the sky. The avariel had slain all aboard it. If they continued at this pace, the Aryvandaar elves would be defeated. The avariel could not hold out forever, Hathorian thought. His forces were superior in number. They would slowly overrun their enemy. He looked down toward the high wall of Evaedir. The ground forces were laying seige to it, but it would take time. And then, a horn sounded, alarming Hathorian. He looked behind and smiled though confused by the sight.

* * *

Amidaelis watched the battle. A deep sense of pride filled her heart. Her people were peaceful by nature but when provoked they could be deadly. Only ten griffon riders remained after their initial onslaught. Their magical ability coupled with their military skill was holding the conquering elves back. If only we were greater in number, perhaps we could...She pushed the thought aside. There was no time for lamenting their fate.

Jondaroth had to be safe away from the city by now. They had done their duty and done it well. Somehow, they managed to hold the forces of Aryvandaar at bay. There was hope for the future of the avariel. It was uncertain, but at least they woudl survive today. With grim satisfaction, she winged toward the High Mages who stood atop a tower on the wall. Their eyes were closed and they seemed to be in deep mediation. Together, they were lending their strength to the battle.

Amidaelis landed next to them. She closed her eyes and reached out for the weave. It's comforting touch was familiar and soothing to her as it was to all elves. She was about to join the Circle when a horn sounded. She opened her eyes and looked out on the battle and despair nearly overtook her.

* * *

A hundred more griffon riders were speding toward the battle. Another battleplatform hovered behind them, filled with mages. Hathorian was grateful for the sight but where did this force come from?

"Our second wave," Gilvathas answered as though reading his thoughts. "Our initial assault was only to weaken them. Our victory is assured now."

Hathorian's military training allowed him to control his emotions. He wanted to throw this arrogant Vyshaan prince off their platform. How dare he! With this force combined with what was lost, they could have easily chased the avariel back to their crystal towers. Gilvathas was no tactician, he would never make a great military leader. To just cast aside your forces with no thought or care, House Vyshaan was truly wicked. That thought fell upon him as the re-inforcements descended upon the avariel.

The winged elves were valiant but they were tired and their spells were depleted. They were slowly being rounded up in a ever tighter circle. The griffons fell upon them from above as the mages on the battle platforms closed off their flanks and the archers on the ground, many of whom had magically flown or teleported to the treetops, fired their arrows from below. The avariel were pinned on all sides.

* * *

Amidaelis' heart was breaking, Her people were being rounded up and slain. Verec Ironwing, the stalwart Blade-Major of Evaedir organized the remaining elves, trying in vain to form some sort of defense against this onslaught. Another mage slowing withdrew from the Circle. Careful so as not to break the concentration of the others. The female avariel held the queen's gaze. Her eyes full of wisdom and light as she smiled sadly and flew toward the cirlce.

The old female began to sing. Her beautiful voice carried on the winds. The song pulled upon the weave. A spellsinger, the old female was a spellisinger! She sang a song of avariel valor. Arrows and spells assailed her. She glowed bright as a star, nothing could touch her. Her voice was strong even as she began to fade. The trapped avariel grew stronger. The female high mage's spell had its desired affect. Verec and the other warriors of Evaedir grew stronger and fought on fiercely. The song had rejuvenated them. All the avariel began to sing. The song would carry them to the afterlife to fight at Corellon Larethian's side.

Something whoshed past her. She looked over and one of the High Mages was falling. A javelin piercing his chest. The others' eyes snapped opened. The Circle was broken, many of the mages were dazed from the abrupt breaking on their combined magic. Their personal arcane shields and wards shattered. A hail of arrows fell upon them. Her own magical shield held,not an arrow touched her. The others were not so fortunate. The arrows sprouted from the fallen winged elf mages, their life-blood spilling on the tower surface. Only Bryndael survived, arrows protruding from his body. He smiled at his queen as he fell to his knees.

"One final task, my queen," he said weakly, looking in her eyes. He slowly chanted the words of a spell. This spell was powerful. Amidaelis could feel it in the air. Magic crackled around the old mage as he grew in size and slowly began to change shape. The queen took a step backwards and gazed with wonder on what the mage had become. Before her stood an immense gold dragon. High Magic! She knew of a spell that granted the abilities of dragons but to change into to one. Bryndael must have held power beyond the norm of most mages. He bowed his large reptilian head at his queen and took flight.

The rush of wind nearly knocked her off the tower. The dragon attacked the elves of Aryvandaar as they came over the wall. A burst of dragon fire and a whole brigade of elves were aflame. With claw and teeth, Bryndael tore into the charging elves. Arrow after arrow fell upon the dragon. Arcane energy tore into his new dragon body. He slumped back for a second and launched himself one final time. He used his body to crush his conquerors. Hundreds of elves were crushed under the large dragon's body. Slowly the dragon dissolved and only Bryndael's broken body remained. When the elves were surrounding his body, he vanished in a flash of gold fire burning many more elves. No trace of his body was left.

Amidaelis watched in horror as the elves captured what remained of her warriors. Verec was falling from the sky, refused to surrunder and fought to his dying breath. The others were shackled and placed on the battle platforms. She ran her hand over the selu'kirra grafted to her chest. It contained two spells. As the ruler of Evaedir, she knew House Vyshaan wished to capture her. She did not fight as the elves of Aryvandaar surrounded her. Forcing her on her knees, they waited as one of their battle platforms lowered until it rested in front of the tower ledge.

A haughty and handsome elf strode forward proudly. A more mature, battle hardened elf stood behind him. The younger elf wore the ornate dressings and colors of House Vyshaan. Amidaelis slowed her breathing, she would not beg for mercy. These elves would get no sport from her. She felt the cold comfort of the selu'kirra on her chest. Two spells, her vengeance unleashed waited within the sky blue gem...


End file.
